I clicked again. “Call it an educated guess.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “She cheated on me.”
I stilled, my finger freezing, but I didn’t leave the shield of my camera. “I’m so sorry—”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he bit out. “I’m just saying that I obviously failed her somehow. Wasn’t enough. She went to someone else. To drugs. She didn’t come to me. I would’ve tried to help.”
“I know you would’ve. But people seek out drugs to numb themselves, Boden.”
“I know that.” He looked towards the flames dancing in the hearth. The grief and anger mixed then, and I took another photo.
“I’m so mad at her. And I fucking miss her. Not our relationship, but my friend. And then I feel guilty for all of it. It’s this ugly stew, swirling inside me.”
Boden’s hand clenched into a fist as he spoke, his knuckles bleaching white. This was it. What I wanted the world to know. That you could feel it all. Every single emotion, all at the same time. To normalize that black stew Boden spoke of.
“Just because she’s gone doesn’t mean you can’t be angry. Just because you realize you were better as friends doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to miss her.”
A single tear slid down Boden’s stubble-covered cheek. It was too much. I couldn’t hide behind my lens and not be with him in this. I set my camera down and scooted over to him. I cupped his face in my hands, feeling the stubble and that single track of wetness. “You loved her the best you could.”
“I should’ve let her go a long time ago.”
“Maybe so. But you holding on isn’t what did this to her. That was Carissa’s choice.”
Something dark swirled in Boden’s eyes. “Maybe.”
My thumbs swept back and forth across his face. “You’ll see that one day. You will.”
He leaned forward, his forehead resting against mine. “It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. That I’m angry.”
“How did it feel?”
“Like some of that weight lifted off my shoulders.”
“Sometimes, simply saying the words helps. It doesn’t change anything, but you’re sharing that burden with another human. It lessens the load some.”
Boden’s hand slid up the column of my neck, slipping under the fall of my hair. “I’m not just sharing it with anyone. I’m sharing it withyou. A person who understands me better than anyone ever has before.”
My heart thudded against my ribs in a ragged beat.
Boden leaned in closer until his lips were just a breath away. He stilled there. His fire had me closing the distance. My mouth met his in a hungry kiss, one that spoke of bearing witness to pain, of empathy and understanding. One that quickly changed to heat and want. The desire for more. For all that was Boden. For all that was this thing between us.
The sensations that sparked through me had my breath seizing in my lungs. Panic set in and had me jerking back. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—I can’t.”
I scrambled to my feet and hurried to my room. All because Boden Cavanaugh made me feel far too much.
25
Boden
I rolledto my back in bed. The surface was too damn cold. The opposite of the heat that had almost burned me alive last night. That one tiny taste of Laiken, and I knew I’d never be the same.
It was so much more than chemistry. That touch of mouth to mouth had been hunger but also understanding. Laying everything that swirled around in my mind out for inspection and receiving nothing but compassion in return.
I understood her impulse to run. It scared the hell out of me, too. I’d given her last night to herself, but that all changed today. There was too much at stake. I’d lived enough years to know that this kind of connection didn’t come along often. It was a gift, and I wasn’t going to lose it.
Rolling out of bed, I headed for the bathroom. I made quick work of getting ready, pulling on sweats and a tee. I walked out into the living space and listened. I heard Laiken in her bathroom, the water of the shower running.
An image flashed in my mind. Laiken. All that golden skin on display.